


For You

by Malorum



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel!Reader, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character death times two, Demon Dean, F/M, deanmon, moc!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 09:44:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10851420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malorum/pseuds/Malorum
Summary: You first met Dean Winchester when Castiel had pulled him from the depths of Hell. Your friend had come back mildly wounded, carrying a damaged soul in his arms. You had been intrigued instantly.





	For You

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first posted work. It was requested by a friend of mine, xxConverseHighxx, and I hope you enjoy!

You had first met Dean Winchester when Castiel had pulled him from the depths of Hell. Your friend had come back mildly wounded, with a damaged soul in his arms. You had been intrigued instantly. Deep below the black haze of self-lothing and anger, you could see the bright light that was the love he held for his younger brother. 

You had revealed yourself to him in that barn with Castiel, and your intrigue had shifted slightly as you watched him. It took him a while, but he eventually accepted that angels did exist, and that two of them had decided to keep him company. As time continued to pass, you spent less time with Castiel, and more time at Dean's side. It didn’t take long for your angelic brother to see that you were in love with Dean Winchester. It took you a bit longer though. In fact, you didn’t realize it until Dean came back from a ‘hunt’ that he had forbidden to join him on, sporting the Mark of Cain. The realization that he had just damned his soul shattered your heart, and you searched desperately with Sam and Castiel for a way to remove it.

You died the moment Dean did. 

Not literally, of course. Heartbreak couldn’t kill an angel, but you wished that it could. You didn’t leave your room, didn’t move for weeks, staring blankly at the wall, numb to the world around you. Castiel was worried. Of course he was. You were practically the only family he had left, and you were suffering. So he worried. But he didn’t understand. No one did. 

When Sam found out Dean was back, you felt hope for the first time in what felt like centuries. It took a long time, but you eventually tracked him down. His black eyes watched you, and horrible things spewed from his lips, telling you he never loved you. Telling you that you were less than nothing to him. Each word tore at you, and you knew he knew it. 

Sam believed that he could cure Dean. He thought that the blood injections would work. You thought so too. That is until he broke loose. 

He had gone after Sam first, intent on making his younger brother suffer. You had blocked his path, tried to hold him back. You never saw the knife. It tore cleanly through your midsection, and when you couldn’t heal yourself, he laughed, enjoying the pain visible on your face. He had altered the blade a while before, and while it wasn’t a angel blade, it certainly got the job done.  
You knew that Sam was too far away, and couldn’t help you. Even if he were closer, Dean would kill him the second he saw him. Castiel was gone, and he wouldn’t be back in time to help you either. Knowing that you would die anyways, you reached out and pulled Dean closer to you. You held him tightly against you as you forced your grace from your body into his. He screamed angrily and fought against you, and you whispered your love for him against his ear as the last of your grace and life left you. 

Castiel returned the moment your body slumped to the floor, Dean going with you, his screams turning to one’s of anguish as he came back to himself. Castiel pulled him off of you, keeping him at a distance, despite Dean's struggles to get to your body. 

Pulling your limp form into his arms, Castiel disappeared with a flutter of wings, leaving Dean in the bunker hallway screaming your name. Castiel returned several hours later, coming in through the front door instead of appearing within the bunker walls. Dean sat at a table in the front room, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his eyes dead as he looked up. Castiel gave him a brief look before he stepped aside, revealing you, standing behind the angel, your fists wrapped tightly in the fabric of his trench coat as you looked fearfully around the room as if you had never seen it before. 

Dean stood abruptly, his glass slipping from his fingers and smashing against the floor as your name left his lips in a whisper. The loud noise of shattering glass had you whimpering and cowering further behind the angel in an attempt to hide. Pain shot through Dean's heart at the sight, and he took a step back. Castiel turned to you and took your hands in his, telling you that it was okay, that you were safe, and you nodded, still clinging to him as tears pooled in your eyes. Gently, he led you through the bunker to the room you had claimed as your own, settling you in before he returned to the main room where Dean stood, his eyes fixated on the hallway you had just vanished down.

“Is it really her Cas?” he asked, his voice rough with emotion. Castiel nodded briefly.

“It is her, but also not. She is no longer an angel. In giving her grace to you, she fell. She became human. Mortal. And she doesn’t remember anything. Not me, not the life she had before,” he paused. “Not you.” Dean’s jaw clenched as a fresh wave of pain courses through him. You didn’t remember him. 

“Its probably for the best.” He muttered, turning away from his friend, intent on pouring another glass of whiskey when Castiel places a hand on his shoulder. 

“How exactly, Dean, is this better? She remembers nothing! Her whole life, her entire identity is gone! Nothing I did could repair that. Yes, her body is alive, but everything that made her who she was is gone. She is essentially dead!” Castiel’s voice rose steadily until he was practically shouting, showing far more emotion now than he had his entire time on Earth. Dean whirled around to face him. 

“How is this better? How is this better?! It’s better, Cas, because she doesn’t remember that I am the reason she is like this! She doesn’t remember that I killed her! She doesn’t remember how loving me destroyed her. She can move on. She can get out of the life. She can be safe. And if she never remembers me, then it will still be more than I deserve.”

Castiel’s face purple with rage. 

“You think she will be safe? She rebelled against Heaven with me! She was by my side when the angels fell! She is just as hated, and just as hunted as I am. The only difference now is that she cannot defend herself! There is no getting out for either of us, especially her. Unless you want her to die, and remain that way this time.”

He would have continued, but Dean’s eyes slid past him, widening as they focuses on something over Castiel's shoulder. Turning, the angel saw you peeking out from behind the doorway, your eyes wide and fearful. “I-I'm sorry!” you stammered ducking further behind the doorway to conceal yourself further. Dean moved towards you, every fiber of his being telling him to comfort, to protect. You pulled away from him a little, and a look of hurt flashed in his eyes as he dropped the hand that reached for you. Castiel approached, laying a hand on your shoulder comfortingly, giving Dean a sad look. 

“Just give her some time. Perhaps she will remember.” He said, and with that, he guided you back down the hall. 

Despite his own desires, Dean took Castiel's advice and gave you time. After a few short weeks, you were able to talk to him without being afraid. A month after that, you remembered small facts about the life you had led before. It was the first time you had remembered something, and it gave the four of you hope. A week and a half later, you were reading with Sam when you remembered how you first met Dean. After that, the memories came back faster, like a dam had burst. By the time a year had passed, you had remembered everything from before. Everything except how you had lost all your memories. Two months passed before you remembered that too. 

You could tell that Dean was nervous. That he thought you wouldn’t love him anymore after you remembered. That you would hate him. But you knew that the Dean that had killed you was not the same.  
He was not the same Dean that held you close every chance he got. He was not the same Dean that kissed the tears from your cheeks when you remembered something painful. He was the not same Dean that his your hand like his life depended on you not letting go. And he wasn’t the same Dean that whispered his “I love you's” into your hair for hours when he thought you were asleep. So when you remembered, you took Dean, your Dean, the one that loved you unconditionally, and you kissed him, murmuring your “I love you's” against his lips.


End file.
